


Grated Nerves Under the Shredder

by Tuna Fiamma (Thatonecrazyauthorthatlivesnextdoor)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatonecrazyauthorthatlivesnextdoor/pseuds/Tuna%20Fiamma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Terra Nova, a teenage male who wouldn't give two shits about his surroundings. Unfortunately that meant that he would often get into the most weirdest situations known to Man. Follow him, from the age of six, and watch him grow and meet new people. "My life has consistent flaws in which I nod at and let nature take its course, or in this case I suppose it would be fate, I guess." DISCLAIMER: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! Slight-AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My name is Terra Nova, a few people call me T.N., they say it's easier, but I think otherwise.

"Yo, brat! Having fun in the cell? Ahahahahahaha!"

"Ahahahaha! Good one!"

For the record, I am six years old. And the two men that just passed my cell were the ones who caught me. I should have paid more attention, but honestly, biting their hairy hands was what had gotten me into this situation in the first place.

"Hey, T.N., c'mere!"

That one is my cell mate, a former pedophile, who has really stinky breath. I made a vow to always brush my teeth after I met him, I bet mother would be so proud. I make my way over to him, and see what he has to show me. "What is it?"

"It's an escape route!" He cackles, allowing his remaining teeth to show. He has ten, I know because I counted one time when I had gotten super bored in my cell. He rubbed the rough stubble on his chin, grinning like a madman. "And guess what!"

I tilt my head slightly. "What?"

"You're going to go through here, you hear me boy?" He grew serious, a very rare expression that he allows. One time he told me that he would only grow serious when raping Virgin Mary, and I asked him how he did that when the saint Virgin Mary was already gone. He only grinned and said that later on I would get what he meant. I left it at that, and the topic didn't come up again.

"What about you?" I asked, frowning. He was the one who made the escape route, I know because he keeps making a lot of noise when I try to sleep, then he sleeps all morning, and I sit here all quietly.

He waved his hand dismissively, giving a snort like a pig. "Dun' worry 'bout me, kid, I'm givvin' you your right to freedom, now dun' waste time! You gotta go an' get outta here!"

I gave a small giggle. He was embarrassed, you could tell by the way he shortened his words and gave off a thick accent. It was funny, and it made for my only entertainment. He pushed me towards the hole he created. "Now go! Before they come back here!"

I nodded and allowed myself to slip through the hole. Looking up I saw his wrinkly face, and I waved good-bye. He gave me one of his lopsided grins before closing the hole that I had come from. I stood there a little longer before I decided that it was best to move on, lest they caught me, again.

I hurried through the dank area, holding back my gag as I unsuccessfully blocked the stench from my nose. It smelled horrible! In the end I had gotten used to it, and continued to trudge on, using the wall as my guide.

I don't know how long it was until I finally reached the end. A ladder met me at the far end of what I assumed was the sewer, and I knew that wherever there was a ladder, there was a manhole. I might have to thank my teacher for that. Shrugging I made my way to the ladder, and started climbing, making sure I held a firm grip on the bars.

I mustered my last strength to push the manhole barrier up, and move it out of the way. I allowed myself to climb out and flop down onto the ground. A few minutes of rest was good enough for me to take in the new surroundings that I was accompanied with. A graveyard. I huffed and got up to look for the caretaker of the cemetery and I spotted their building not so far away.

I managed to get up and move towards the building, not minding my newly acquired scrapes from my recent travel. I knocked on the door, and waited. It wasn't long until I heard grumbling on the other side, when the door opened revealing a man who was well in his 50s. He looked shocked to see me standing there, with a month of grimes worth. "By god! Kid where have you been playing? You stink of the sewers!"

I stared back. "That is because I came from the sewers, sir."

"And what have you been doing down there?!" He waved his arms around, likely to disbelieve my story if I told him. "Think of what your parents would say!"

"I was held captive, but a kind, and former, pedophile helped me escape, sir." I replied with honesty. "My parents have been dead since the beginning of my capture."

The man looked at me, thinking really hard. He then gave a long sigh, rubbing his tired face. "The names Joe,"

"Terra Nova, sir," I replied with earnest. "some people like to call me T.N., since they think my name is too abnormal."

"Well, I'll call you T., how's that sound?" Joe gave way into his house. "Now come inside and we'll get you all cleaned."

I nodded, smiling. "Thank you for letting me stay!"


	2. Chapter 2

"You can't just pick up a _random_ child off the street at the scene of the crime and blame him!!"

"But, sir, he gave no resistance when we detained him,"

"That _doesn't_ mean he blew the house up!"

"Uh, his attitude also fit the description of _'nonchalant, and dead'_ ,"

"Are _all_ the _police_ this _short-sighted_?!"

I gave a sigh as Joe continued his rant on the police officer that was left behind to watch over me. A while back, I had been enrolled into a new school, under the name of T. Joe (Joe's idea of not dragging in unwanted attention from my captors, which I had escaped from a few months back with the help of a former pedophile), and he deemed me to be able to walk back and forth, to and from school. Of course I agreed, seeing that I didn't want to trouble my host... but that idea went out the window a few times this month.

"Sir, _please_ calm down!"

"Like _hell_ I'll calm down!"

Other than the current problem of me being detained for supposedly blowing a house up, I had gotten caught up in a scam between a robber and a high ranking politician, was kidnapped to be sold off into the black market, kidnapped for a ransom (the guy thought that I was the son of some rich guy, he would have been right if my father were still alive), nearly been strangled by some psych maniac who had broken out of his solitary cell (he thought that I was his son, that he murdered in cold blood, who came back from the grave to haunt him), and got caught up in an eat and run with a man who thought I could be some trump card (it didn't end so well when I stared at him as the police arrived).

"Where is your Inspector! I want a word with him right now!"

"Sir, _please_ calm down! I will have to detain you as well if you don't!"

I once was kidnapped by a random maniac off the street, who wanted to remake the cartoon world in reality; so he tied me up and strapped me onto the railway. It was too bad for him though, since the trains were all cut off for maintenance that day.

"I am going to take this matter to _Court_!"

"You leave me _no choice_ , sir, I need all available hands on the first floor, I repeat, _all available hands on the first floor_ , there is a _rampant maniac_!"

Though the funny thing is, Joe was there getting me out of all the trouble I had gotten stuck into. I feel real bad that he had to go through all the trouble, and even worse when he would wave it off, saying that he was okay with it. I try my best in not getting into so many troubling scenarios, but the streak lengthens.

The sound of many footsteps made me sigh. This was the least I could do for him, to save his blood vessels from bursting.

I got up and made my way over to the struggling policeman, and tugged on Joe's sleeve. "Joe, you'll be sent to jail at this rate."

He stopped, took a few breaths and squatted down to face me (the policeman was startled at the lack of weight that he toppled backwards, hitting his behind on the floor with a loud thump), his green eyes glittered with worry and concern. "You're not hurt anywhere are you, T.? No scrapes, or bruises? No concussion?"

"I'm fine," I managed a small smile, but I lost it when I looked around. "though maybe you should take things slowly, otherwise you won't be left alone with just a warning this time."

He gave a snort. "And that's coming from the boy who gets into trouble nearly everyday?"

I looked down at the floor, disheartened, giving a small mutter of hurt. "I'm sorry,"

I heard a sigh, jumping slightly at the pat he gave my head. "Don't be, I'm just happy that you're alive, kid."

A cough interrupted our moment, and we both looked up. The man was slightly round, holding up a moustache of peppered brown, his scalp bald with the exception of the horseshoe shaped hair of the same peppered brown. He looked tidy, but his uniform looked like it was having a hard time keeping all his extra blubber in. He narrowed his eyes, which I noted were hazel, looking over the both of us. "I would like to have a word with you, Mister,"

"Joe," Joe informed him, getting up with a slight heave. "just Joe."

The man nodded, muttering Joe's name under his breath, and waved him to follow. He glanced down at me and looked over at one of his officers. "Peter, look over after the boy."

Peter, a lanky youth, saluted the Inspector (I only assumed he was of such status anyway) as he left.

I gave another sigh as I went back to my seat. Looks like I had quite a bit of waiting to do.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," The Inspector leaned in, his hands clasped on his desk. "you were walking home, and the house just blew up."

I nodded. "That's how it happened."

"Look kid," He gave an irritated sigh, massaging his temples. "I don't have all day to entertain your silly ideas of fun,"

I stared at him. How can I have fun with another grilling me for answers? In fact shouldn't the mental physic of the child come first _before_ the arrest?

"Now you better spill everything-"

I tuned him out in order to save my brain from further frying. It hadn't even been an hour since Joe and I switched places for being interviewed (or how Joe puts it: _good for nothings can't even sniff out the real culprit so they're taking it out on civilians_ ). If I listened closely, I was sure to hear Joe's yells at the younger policemen, who I pitied for being a stress outlet.

The slam of palms on a wooden desk brought me out of my daze with a start. I looked up and was met with a furious gaze of a very angry Inspector. He leaned in, a few drops of spit flying in my direction, gnashing his every word. "Listen up, _kid_ , I don't have _everyday_ for your _dilly-dallying_ , so cough up your confession, otherwise you'll be seeing bricks for the rest of you _puny_ life!"

I scrunched up my nose in distaste. Both mother and father did say that impressions were critical in the public world, and I couldn't agree more. Eyeing the pen and paper on his desk, I reached out and snatched it, formulating my escape out of this sticky situation. I couldn't have Joe come to my rescue every time I fell into a pit.

"What the _hell_ are you _doing_ , you _brat_!"

I gave a shrug, not bothering to look up. "I'm writing up a confession that you can report on the news yourself."

I paused, looking up and giving a smile to the distasteful Inspector. "Of course, I won't be in your _lovely_ brick cells until the day after you recite this. Do we have a deal?"

I could tell that he was having a dilemma on whether I should be shoved into jail right after, or to wait until after the confession. His expression went blank as he frowned down at me, for what seemed like years (my cheeks were starting to hurt from all this smiling in a single day). "Alright, I will send an officer to collect you the day after."

I lost my smile, and nodded as I continued to write down the confession.

* * *

Joe paced the living room, his face pensive as he sent furtive glances towards the clock on the wall. That was how I found him this morning when I had come downstairs to eat breakfast.

The day before we both agreed that I won't be heading to school (it was mainly Joe's idea, since I didn't really have much of a say in it), preferring to watch the news, and enjoy the last family moments (Joe's words).

I couldn't really blame him though, since I wasn't feeling very hungry at the moment. I couldn't sleep very well last night, either, worrying over how wrong the small plan of blame, via confession letter, was going to go. They could have changed up the whole thing, and wrote up some misleading information just to get me behind bars.

Joe finally noticed my presence, grunting his usual good morning. "There is bread in the cupboards, and jam in the fridge, help yourself."

"Not hungry," I muttered, making myself comfortable on the loveseat that was placed right in front of the TV in the room. Joe didn't say anything else, preferring to pace the living room. It was a long time until the morning news came on, at 10 sharp. Joe turned on the TV, and flipped to the news channel. It was in time for the news headlines of _Boy blows up the house, and denies everything_. I found that a bit _too_ dramatic.

"Police scums don't even know how to phrase their events," I heard Joe mutter as the news delved into their hot topic of the day.

_"Yesterday a house blew up in the rural parts of the city, luckily it was empty, the family out beforehand to have a family dinner."_ The crisp man started on the report. _"there were no victims, but the police did catch a culprit who was walking past it. They detained him, and he did not resist, isn't that right Elizabeth?"_

The woman next to the man smiled. _"Yes that is true, Mark, and can you believe that he is just a kid?!"_

Mark gave a slight smile. _"I couldn't believe it until I confirmed it with the Chief Inspector at the police station."_

_"I hear that he wrote his confession that is meant to be read out loud today at the interview with the English Police,"_ Elizabeth stated with a look of disbelief. _"I mean, who would do that these days?"_

_"I don't know about that, Elizabeth,"_ Mark raised a brow, leaning on his elbow against the desk. He looked towards the camera. _"but we do have live footage from Bethany, who is currently at the interview, isn't that right, Bethany?"_

The screen switched to a woman who looked like she didn't even want to be there, with how plastic her smile looked. _"Yes, that is, Mark! I am currently at the interview, live, where the letter of the boy who denies everything is being read."_

She gave a terse nod. _"We'll switch to the feed we captured inside right now,"_

The screen changed again, this time showing the inside of the building where the round Inspector stood behind the pedestal. _"-now here we have the letter that the culprit of the explosion wrote up,_ To all of those that are now listening to this letter of a fake confession, I wonder how you would all react to this opinion of mine- _"_

The Inspector frowned at the letter and turned to the closest officer, whispering harshly. The officer shook his head, leaving the inspector to turn back to the letter, a little red in the face. He cleared his throat and continued to read the letter. _"Ahem, anyway,_ -I wonder how the Law goes around here, since I'm not one for politics. I am told to write a confession, so I present you one that would bring to light on why I am actually writing it. _"_

He cleared his throat again. _" Hrm,_ -Now I was heading home, minding my own business when the house next to me blew up. Luckily, like always, I wasn't injured. I also got to give it to the English Police for arriving much quicker than I expected. But the way I was treated, as the culprit, was pretty much a harassment to my legal rights of an individual. The Landlord that I live with, a very kind man, risks his life to protect me, and I appreciate it very much. But pushing the blame on me, a person, specifically a child of 6 years, is very harsh. Wouldn't you first take care of the mental physic of the child, who was exposed to an explosion, first? This is- _"_

The Inspector stopped, re-reading the line that was pretty much insulting the whole of the English Police Force. I couldn't help but grin when he folded the paper up and shook his head. _"I will not read anymore of this confession letter, it obviously is trying to hide the fact that he blew the house up!"_

_"Can I ask, why?"_ One of the reporters yelled, standing up.

_"I will not answer that, I have the right not to!"_ The Inspector answered, moving off the stage.

The crowd didn't let up, all of them getting up simultaneously to follow the Inspector. _"Like how the 6 year old child was supposed to have?! Doesn't he deserve the right as well?"_

_"Move away! No more questions!"_ He yelled, moving his hands around him in order to stop the oncoming Press. It looked to be futile with how a whole bunch of microphones were pushed towards his way.

"Well deserved public appearance, Inspector," I laughed. "well deserved!"

"What exactly did you write in that letter of yours, T.?" Joe questioned, looking at me.

I gave a shrug. "English has a lot of perks in vocabulary."

We both looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

* * *

The next day, a letter greeted us in the stead of the promised police officer. I felt a good weight lift from my shoulders, allowing me to breathe normally again. Joe looked rather bright too, when he read the letter.

It was vague, but it stated the point clearly. Saying something like _we are sorry for the false detainment_ and how _it was an accident that would not happen again_ , and that I _will be free from future police interactions_. The last part was a bit over the top, but I wasn't complaining with how things turned out.

I just might keep this letter as proof of that statement. Just in case.


	3. Chapter 3

I gave a stretch as I headed for lunch, grabbing my lunch box from my bag. The last few months were pretty much solemn in the sense that I did not counter scams or get kidnapped under a ruse, but I did have trouble with the Press for some time. Truthfully, I did not like the experience of being grilled for the answers to someone else's questions', so I did what I could do, avoid any large areas, and be as quick as possible in reaching my destination. So far my luck stretched out pretty far.

I scratched the back of my head as I found a spare table to eat my lunch. I made my way to settle over to it, quite eager to eat something.

"Hey! Hey! Are you sitting alone?"

Well there went my peace and quiet. I looked up, trying not to sigh, and examined the person who decided that my bubble needed to burst today. The boy had a healthy head of muddy brown hair, matched up with the brightest pair of green eyes, and had a face dotted with freckles. I gave a nod, going back to my lunch.

"You sure don't talk much, do you?"

I shook my head, eating out of the sandwich that Joe made. I don't know what it was, but they tasted heavenly to me.

"You're pretty much the opposite of what others say you are, you know?"

I looked up from my sandwich, finishing off my current bite, analyzing the boy again. I spoke up. "I'm afraid I didn't get your name, seeing as you know mine."

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself!" He grinned, sticking out his hand for me to shake. "My name is Fredrick, Charlie Fredrick the Third. But you can just call me Charlie!"

I took his hand and shook it solemnly. "And you know how much about me?"

"I spoke to nearly everyone in the school, well," Charlie scrunched his nose. "except for the higher divisions, seeing as we can't even go there on breaks."

"Impressive," I gave a nod. "you must be really well acquainted with everyone."

"No need to compliment me!" Charlie boasted, puffing his chest dramatically. "My dad always says to be at the top of your game, no matter what it is!"

I nodded, feeling slightly stung. "That's good to hear,"

"Well, no matter! I was thinking if I could ask you some questions, you know to get to know you better?" He asked, his words hopeful.

I let out a breath, after finishing off my sandwich. Looking at him, I shook my head. "I've had a bad experience when people asked me questions, so I'd rather not answer any such questions. Now if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my lunch before the break ends."

"Then can I sit with you?" Charlie pressed.

I had to give it to him for being this persistent. "You're already sitting with me as is, I don't see the point of asking again."

"Haha, you're right!" I shook my head in disbelief. I guess this is how a friend feels like.

* * *

"Hey, T.! Look at what I got yesterday as a birthday present!" Charlie caught up with me in the hall, holding onto a leather bound book.

I gave it an acknowledged nod. "That looks like a good book."

"It is! I only read _one_ chapter!" He squealed in glee, jumping slightly. I gave a small smile as I congratulated him a happy birthday, wishing him well. He put his hand out, which he elaborated when I didn't say anything. "As a friend, you also have to get me a present, it's already a day late."

"Friend?" I asked, slightly bewildered. I couldn't get used to hearing the word, no matter how many times I heard it. Maybe it was the change in atmosphere, where these people don't know of my actual standing in England's Society. I hardly cared for having someone close to me, who only cared for my standing then. But now, I was just a simple bygone. Nobody knew who I was, and they didn't pry for it either... well for Charlie's case, it took a while for him to understand that point.

"Yeah! A friend!" He withdrew his hand. "I'll bet on that bond that you won't forget to get me a present."

I nodded slowly. I guess it will take some time for me to figure something out. "You don't have to rush things though, I can wait."

Looking at the cheery smile, I felt my cheeks heat slightly. I looked down at the floor, as my stomach did flips and twists. A gasp came from Charlie's direction. "You're _blushing_!"

"I-It's not what you think!" I turned my head to the side, failing to hide my stutter.

"T., that's adorable!" Charlie laughed, patting my shoulder. "I didn't think you, of all people, could _blush_!"

"T-That's not it!" I countered, feebly pushing him off me.

It took a while for Charlie to cease his laughter, and for me to return back to normal as much as possible. Charlie sighed, leaning on my shoulder again. "I haven't laughed like that in _ages_!"

I stayed quiet, trying to fight off another heat wave. I dug into my pockets, instead, trying to find what I had with me. My hand soon brushed against a chain-like material in one of them, and I grabbed onto it. Pulling it out, I examined it to find that it was a chain that my mother had given me as a memento of my late grandfather. On the chain, there was a metal dog tag attached to it, and on it, an engraved quote. I briefly remembered how my mother would tell me how much my grandfather loved quotes, something about inspiring him with his artwork. I fumbled with the tag, reading the quote engraved.

> _Within each of us there is a silence as vast as the Universe. We long for it. We can return to it. - Jack Kornfield_.

I flipped to the other side of the tag, checking if their was anything written on the other end. There was, to my slight surprise.

> _To my sweet, lovely, and precious, child, Terra Nova, happy birthday. - Elanor Nova_

I inhaled sharply, letting some old memories resurface. Birthday cakes, candles, balloons, streamers, warmth, family. I shook my head, and reached out for Charlie's hand. Ignoring the concerned look he had on his face, I opened his hand, smiling brightly at him. "From me to you, Charlie, happy birthday."

He looked down to examine the chain, his curiosity showing through. He paused when he had read the second side of the tag, then looked up at me. "This looks to be really important to you, are you sure you're okay with giving this to me?"

"It's precious to me, and so are you." I smiled. "You are my first real friend after all, so happy birthday!"

* * *

I made my way out of the library, with a few books that I checked out, concentrating on not falling with my heavy load.

"Hey, T.!"

I always wonder how Charlie knows where I am, it was the weekend and London wasn't exactly a small town either. I gave up trying to move on, as I turned towards Charlie. "Hey, what's the rush?"

"Nothing, I saw you coming out of the library, so I ran over here to greet you!" He waved his arms in his excited demeanor.

That did explain how he found me, a little. I shifted the weight of the books slightly, nodding. "Right, so you left your parents to rush over here and greet me."

"Not really," He gave a shrug, making the chain necklace around his neck give a slight jingle with the movement. "I told them before I left. Want me to help carry those books for you?"

"Okay," I nodded, giving a couple of the lighter ones to him.

"Whoa, these are real heavy! How do your arms not fall off?!" He exclaimed, shifting them in his arms.

"Those are the lightest of the load, and both make the weight of at least one of the ones I'm carrying." I explained, pointing to one of the thicker volumes I had in my stack.

"Again, how do your arms _not_ fall off?!" He repeated.

"I bear with it." I stated with a shrug.

We were pretty taken with our chatting, well on our way to my place, going back and forth with random topics, that I didn't notice the stranger coming behind us until it was far too late.

You couldn't go backwards in time to stop a blackout after all.

* * *

I groaned, coming to my senses. The headache on the back of my head didn't hold back on it's bloom, immediately on a full blast of pain. My hands were tied behind me, with how the rope kept digging into my wrists. My legs also couldn't move apart, to which I also chalked it up to completely being tied up. I gave a small struggle, muttering under my breath. "Damn ropes, this is all well done too..."

Another groan set me on high alert as I tried searching through the dark room. It wasn't all for nil, since I could make out another body not so far away from my position.

I frowned at who it could be. A few minutes of wracking my brain, I figured out the other one was. "Charlie?"

The other form groaned, moving around slightly. I tried again. "Charlie? Is that you, Charlie?"

"Urgh... T.?"

A wave of relief washed over me. "Are you alright? You're not hurt too bad, are you?"

"Slow down, T., I can hardly understand you." Charlie groaned. His breathing hitched. "W-Where are we? I can't move!"

"Calm down! I'm the one who needs to be panicking!" I cut his hysteria. "I didn't expect to be in this situation with you!"

"Am I supposed to feel hurt right now?" Charlie snickered, though his hysteria hadn't completely gone away.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" I backtracked, the fear inside now gripping at me. "It's been way too long since this happened, so I thought it wouldn't happen again."

"Wait," Charlie's voice had more seriousness than he was credited for. "you're saying that you get _kidnapped_ often?"

"... Um, no?" I replied sheepishly. "I only got kidnapped twice..."

The silence that stretched out was more than awkward, so I broke it up. "Well that doesn't matter right now! I can't let you get hurt, so let's get out of these restraints!"

"Is that what you do when you get caught?" Charlie questioned.

I let out a sigh. "No, not really anyway, but that's not what's important!"

"So you just didn't care that your were tied up, and didn't bother to think about the fact that you were kidnapped?"

I could tell him to shut up and think of a way to get rid of these restraints, but I didn't have the will to say anything to him. Do friends' always worm their way into the heart like this? I let out a breath out of my nose, shaking my head. "No, I didn't care about being tied up, or the fact of the kidnapping. Now can we at least figure out how to get out of these restraints?"

"Why can't we do this your way?"

I was nearly at the end of my rope with his questions. "No, Charlie, snap out of it! This is a _real_ kidnapping scenario, and I _don't_ want you getting _hurt_!"

There was a few moments of quiet between us.

Charlie then coughed. "Did you know that my Uncle taught me how to get out of restrictions of all kinds?"

This time I had to backtrack, just to be sure that I had heard right. "Just what exactly did your Uncle do for a living?"

"I don't really know actually," He trailed off, probably thinking the thought over.

I didn't have another chance to steer Charlie's thoughts back on track when the door opened. We both ceased, looking up at who opened the door, practically blinding us with the bright light streaming in. "It's time to bust you two out of here!"

I frowned at the familiar voice. "Joe?"

"No one but me, kid."

* * *

"So how were you able to get past all these people?" I gestured to all of the knocked out men in the hallway. Some slumped against the wall, while others were in hilarious positions, like the guy with his behind raised to the ceiling as he was slumped on the floor.

"I wasn't always a graveyard caretaker," Joe answered vaguely, like he always did when I asked him anything personal.

"How did you even find us?" I asked again, looking up at him.

"When have I _never_ found you?"

"Good point." Our trek through the halls was quiet, and I was starting to get more concerned with the fact on how quiet Charlie was. I turned to the brunette, examining him. "Are you alright, Charlie?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess," He gave a shrug, returning his gaze back to the ground.

That wasn't the energetic kid that bothers me on a daily basis. I dropped back, walking by his side. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"What makes you say that?" He gave a laugh.

"Cause the Charlie I know doesn't sulk," I answered with seriousness.

For a moment, he was quiet, before speaking up. "I guess I'm just taking this all in, you know, _processing_ the fact that I was kidnapped."

"I'm sure you'll be okay," I patted his shoulder, giving him a smile. "at least you weren't hurt, that's all that matters to me."

"You say it as if you have gone through worse than what we just went through now," Charlie pointed out.

I hummed in thought. "I guess yeah, in a small way, they all carried out through the middle before Joe came to the rescue."

"And you didn't do _anything_?" Charlie's exclamation enthusiasm returned. I laughed, earning whine from him. Sneaking a glance at Joe, I saw him smile a little before it was gone from my view. This kidnapping may have had an anti-climatic end, but I was just glad that nothing terrible had gone down. I didn't want this moment to end, really.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, T.!" I toppled over with the extra weight known as Charlie, struggling to breathe through the suffocating hug he greeted me with. I think he noticed that I wasn't breathing properly, since he let go. "Ah, sorry, couldn't help myself!"

Taking in a deep breath, I nodded in agreement, giving a breathless reply. "Nearly sent me to the other side, you did,"

Regaining my breath, I spoke up. "How did you even know my birthdate?"

I was pretty sure that I hadn't said anything personal to him, or revealed anything about myself quicker than I had intended. So how?

"I got it through the database of the school," He boasted, proud of his work apparently.

Oh, so that's how... wait, _what?_ "You did _what_?"

"I went through the school's files, they were sure to have some information on you, since they are a school, and they should have information on each and every student," Charlie elaborated, making it sound like it was the normal thing to do.

"How did you even gain access to that stuff? Aren't they supposed to be classified?" I questioned him, raising a brow.

It must have occurred to him now, with how surprised he looked. "Oh..."

"So what you're telling me," I paused to recollect my thoughts. "you found yourself in the back office, and decided to just look through the files at random will."

He gave a nod. "That sounds about right,"

"That's the same thing when you accidently got locked up in the bookstore last week," I pointed out. "and the week prior to that, you got shut in some random garage."

Charlie nodded in confirmation. "Yup,"

"Then, just tell me this," I raised a hand, gathering my thoughts. "have you always had the ability to accidently locked up in a random area?"

"Um," He scrunched his nose in thought, clearly thinking through his answer. "I haven't always gotten locked up, but I find myself in the weirdest places."

I sighed. "Right,"

"Well that aside!" He swung an arm around my neck, laughing. "It's your birthday, and to celebrate, I'm giving this to you!"

He handed me a small box, in which I looked over in curiosity. "What is it?"

"Not telling," Charlie shook his head, grinning. "so go ahead and open it!"

I did so without further pushing, and what met me was a necklace with a similar dog tag as the one I had given him on his birthday. However the quote on it was different.

> _Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn, or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude. - Denis Waitley_

I flipped over the tag and smiled at what was written there.

> _To the best friend that I bumped into two years ago, happy birthday, T.! - Charlie Fredrick the Third_

"You didn't bump into me," I let out a small laugh. "you were the one who first approached me."

"Same thing~" Charlie gave a whine. "Now wear it~"

I did so, the grin growing wider. "There, now we have matching necklaces!"

"You got that right!" Charlie cheered, hitting the air with his fist. "Friends forever, right?"

"Right," I nodded. "so why a quote?"

"Because you gave me one!" He patted the dog tag, around his neck, with his finger. "And since it sounded _so_ somber, I decided to give an opposite one to you, man, it feels like we swapped something!"

We both broke out into laughter after that. It wasn't as extravagant as my past birthdays, but it was something that I was surely to cherish until ends meet.

* * *

I walked into the bookstore, my mind set on grabbing a good book off of the shelves. Today was Joe's birthday, and that wasn't something I could miss in my lifetime of knowing him. He wouldn't say anything, but I did some of my own digging and found the day.

Unfortunately for me, I found about it yesterday, so it only gave me so much time to think on what I could get him. I ended up choosing a good novel as a present for him.

The only problem now was _what_   to get him.

A bookstore only had so much, and the possibilities of what Joe would like was infinite.

I gave an irritated huff, choosing to browse through the shelves, looking for something that would be worthy of reading as a past time.

"Are you looking for something specific?"

I turned around to the other person who spoke up. Turns out it was some youth with piercings on both his ears, and lip. Hardly the type to find working in the bookstore, but I wasn't for pointing fingers. "And you are the clerk who works here?"

"Do ya have a problem with it?" He snarled, looking outraged, slipping into a more suitable accent for his character. "If ya do, then I want you out!"

I held up my hands in surrender. "I was just asking, you don't see a punk working in a bookstore of all places with that kind of appearance."

I seemed to have made my point clear, since he calmed down a bit. "Well, what are ya searchin' for?"

Well, almost. I let out a breath, allowing my thoughts to go back to the present I was trying to find for Joe. "Do you have any books for men who necessarily weren't always a graveyard caretaker?"

The look I was given made me shrug. "It's what he says whenever we get caught in a pinch."

"Well, I could try and figure out a few novels that we have," He said, scratching his bleached hair in thought. "I won't make any promises that he would like them though, since everyone has their own preferences and all."

"That's good enough for me," I agreed. "it just has to have a good plot and storyline."

"True to the word kid," He grinned, showing a set of pearly whites. "true to the word."

"I didn't catch your name," I started.

"Jack," He turned around to shake my hand. "Jack Schmott. Yours?"

"Terra Nova, though I go by T. Joe." I smiled, shaking his hand.

"Then I'll settle with T.J., now if you'll follow me, kid, I'll introduce you to some good books." We then both went through a whole variety of books to figure out one that would be perfect for Joe. In the end, I bought one that had a pretty decent storyline, judging from the summary on the back of the book. It nearly took all of my allowance, but it was well worth it.

* * *

"Happy birthday, Joe," I said, handing over the book that I had bought yesterday. He looked surprised, even while he was examining it.

"How'd you find out when my birthday was?" He asked instead.

"I did a few of my own researching," I gave a shrug. "I only found about it the day before yesterday, though. So that didn't give me enough time to find a better present for you."

"Nonsense," I looked up to see Joe grin. "a good book is what a man needs in his lifetime."

He reached over and ruffled my hair. "Thanks for the present, kid."

I felt my cheeks heat, as I smiled. This must be the feeling when you gift someone. I can't say that I hate it.


End file.
